


The Trickster God and the Reaper Man

by MissVioletHunter



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Svartálfaheimr | Svartalfheim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 17:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2236722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissVioletHunter/pseuds/MissVioletHunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How did Loki manage to survive his apparent death in The Dark World? An encounter with a strange creature from a different world may have had something to do with it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trickster God and the Reaper Man

**Author's Note:**

> This may be the weirdest thing I've ever published here. I wrote it for a Tumblr contest, and it evolved from a silly idea I had of a conversation between Loki and the Discworld Death. It's not meant to be taken seriously, of course, although until Marvel finally clarifies how did Loki survive his "death", this could be an explanation as plausible as any other.

Red.

Of all the colors in the rainbow, that was the one that flashed before Loki's eyes when the Kursed one's blade pierced his chest.

He wasn't exactly expecting it, neither the stabbing not the color. A white flash of light... that would have been perfectly normal, of course. A black chasm instead, quite probable considering that he was dying in the Dark World. But finding himself surrounded by a pool of red was unexpected, and therefore quite upsetting. That is, if someone could be bothered to get upset right after being killed in the battlefield.

He had also expected some kind of sound. Like a clash of drums, or a thunder... something that echoed the last beat of his stabbed heart. Instead, his vision had been clouded by a sort of crimson veil, like a curtain woven with blood, and his ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton.

The third thing that was somewhat wrong was the pain. Or, rather, the lack of it. Apparently, death was more merciful than life in that aspect, because, as he lay in his brother's arms and felt the air escape his lungs for the last time, he didn't feel anything worse than a small discomfort.

The majority of Asgardians don't think very often about the moment and circumstances of their death. Having a lifespan of thousands of years can make one careless, even a tad arrogant. Anyway, most of them were more inclined to fighting and drinking than to deep meditation about the afterlife. If you asked any Asgardian warrior about it, they would probably answer with a somewhat incoherent ramble about an ample-bosomed Valkyrie riding into battle, looking after the deceased and leading them to an endless feast. Of what would happen beyond that, nothing. The riding ladies and the piles of celestial food and drink probably clouded the average Aesir's vision too much to look past them.

That was probably the reason why some other races had come to think of them as immortal: to the butterfly that only lives for a brief summer, the centenary trees around her seem to be eternal.

Unfortunately for a certain Asgardian prince (not Aesir, but similar enough to them to have been raised as one), life could be much more frail, and considerably shorter, than he had originally planned.

Loki had never given any credibility to the Valkyrie theory. Mostly because, he thought, if said race of mythic warrior women existed, they surely were powerful and intelligent enough to have their own purpose in life, instead of playing supernatural babysitter to a bunch of dead souls that, being only spirits and therefore incorporeal, couldn't possibly enjoy the pleasures of a loaded table and an army of beautiful golden haired ladies.

However, there was a little part of him that clung to the teachings received during his childhood, a part that still needed to believe. And, as Thor's face became more and more blurry and finally disappeared before his eyes, as he stopped feeling the wind around him and everything began to float towards a deafening darkness, Loki's inner child extended his hand in the vain hope of being cradled by a pair of strong feminine arms.

What he didn't expect was to touch something way furrier than any reasonable Valkyrie's hand should be, something that neighed softly at the contact of Loki's fingers with its white muzzle. The surprise made him open his eyes, and he found himself staring at a big white horse. The red mist around him was dissipating; so far, so good. However, this horse in particular was missing its rider. True, there was a figure standing a few yards away from the steed, but it didn't seem to be any kind of buxom girl with long golden braids and generous breasts.

Unless said braids, breasts and general buxomness could be somehow hiding under a black cloak, of which a skeletal hand emerged holding something that looked very much like a large agricultural hand tool.

WELL, THIS IS CERTAINLY AN INTERESTING DEVELOPMENT.

The deep rumbling voice echoed in Loki's head, apparently without having gone through his ears first. He wasn't exactly scared, but he made sure that the creature noted his disappointment.

"I suppose you are here to take me to Hel. I must admit that I was not expecting you... after all, I did die honorably in battle. Or are you an inhabitant of the Dark World that has followed me to the afterlife?"

The tall black figure tilted his head and removed his hood, revealing a shiny white skull adorned with an eternal, immovable smile.

OH, DEAR, I'M AFRAID IT HAS HAPPENED AGAIN. BINKY, COME HERE. Loki flinched, not out of fear but because the white horse beside him had started to nibble on one of his fingers. MY APOLOGIES FOR BINKY'S BEHAVIOUR. HE'S NOT USED TO TRAVELLING BETWEEN WORLDS... THIS CONVERGENCE IS REALLY MESSING UP WITH THINGS.

The Asgardian got up, and in doing so he realized that he wasn't exactly himself. It wasn't really hard to notice, considering that in front of him, on the ground, looking in extremely ill health, was his own dead body.

"I am dead, then."

NOT EXACTLY. THIS IS ALL VERY EMBARRASSING.

"My conscience has been separated from my body. I am quite sure it fits the definition of death. Now, if you are a minion of Hel, stop toying with me and lead me to wherever my final resting place will be", he demanded in an impatient tone.

I'M AFRAID I AM NOT ALLOWED TO DO THAT, NOT WITHOUT INTRUDING IN SOMEONE ELSE'S DUTY, answered the creature, almost apologetically. YOU SEE, THIS CONVERGENCE... THIS ALIGNMENT OF THE REALMS CAN DO VERY UNEXPECTED THINGS TO THE FABRIC OF REALITY. I FEAR THAT YOU HAVE REMAINED TRAPPED IN A POCKET OF SAID FABRIC, JUST AN INSTANT BEFORE YOU DIED. THE POINT OF ALL THIS IS THAT NEITHER OF US SHOULD BE HERE.

"Are you not an emissary of Hela, sent here to guide me to the Underworld? Speak your name, at least!"

AH, HELA. A CHARMING YOUNG LADY, WHEN SHE CHOOSES TO BE. WE ARE ON SIMILAR BUSINESSES, ALTHOUGH IN THE WORLD WHERE I COME FROM MY POSITION IS A BIT MORE NEUTRAL THAN HERS.

The God of Mischief's eyes opened in recognition. "You are the Midgardian Death. I have seen your likeness in ancient drawings and texts. The Convergence has brought you here!"

AGAIN, NOT EXACTLY, ALTHOUGH YOU'RE NOT COMPLETELY MISGUIDED EITHER. YOU SEE, began the skeleton, petting the white horse's mane, THERE ARE MANY WORLDS IN THE UNIVERSE, MORE THAN THE NINE YOU KNOW. AND IT SEEMS THIS CONVERGENCE PHENOMENON HAS BROUGHT SEVERAL OF THEM INTO ALIGNMENT, INCLUDING AT LEAST ONE THAT SHOULDN'T BE THERE. I SUSPECT IT HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH THE PARTICULAR NATURE OF THE WORLD I OPERATE IN... WHEN YOU DWELL IN A DISC THAT TRAVELS CONSTANTLY THROUGH SPACE, IT'S BOUND TO MEET THE ORBIT OF ANOTHER WORLD SOONER OR LATER. AND, AS IT OFTEN HAPPENS, IT HAS CROSSED THE NINE REALMS' SPHERE IN THE MOST INCONVENIENT OF MOMENTS. A TYPICAL CASE OF COSMIC BAD LUCK, IF YOU WISH.

Loki sighed. Of all the things he had expected to find after his death, a long and cryptic conversation with a living skeleton was very, very low on the list.

"I will ask you for the last time: Are you here to take my soul to its eternal destiny, or not?"

OH, NO. I COULDN'T POSSIBLY DO THAT. YOU SEE, THAT WOULD BE TERRIBLY RUDE OF ME, TO INTERFERE WITH HELA'S JOB. OR WITH THOSE OTHER BLONDE WOMEN THAT APPEAR SOMETIMES. BINKY RODE AFTER THEM ONCE BY MISTAKE, AND WE ENDED UP IN A VERY CROWDED BANQUET HALL, FULL OF EXTREMELY LOUD PEOPLE... WHAT I MEAN IS THAT, TECHNICALLY, I'M NOT ALLOWED TO DO ANYTHING TO YOU.

"Then are we to stay in this... pocket, as you call it, for all eternity?", complained the Asgardian, sitting on a nearby rock and trying very hard not to look at his own corpse in the ground. "What kind of name is Binky, anyway? And why are you riding an ordinary horse? If I had to choose, my mount would be some kind of fiery skeletal steed, something to put fear on the heart of my enemies."

Death blinked, a really hard thing to do when you don't have eyelids. What really happened was that the spooky blue dots of light at the bottom of his orbits faded for a fraction of a second... but, for all practical purposes, it could be considered a blink. He also sat on another boulder, laying his scythe carefully beside him.

I TRIED THE FIERY HORSE ONCE, BUT RIDING A SKELETON PROVED TO BE EXTREMELY UNCOMFORTABLE, AND BESIDES IT KEPT SETTING MY ROBES ON FIRE. SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO FAVOUR FUNCTION OVER FORM. He looked at the black haired god beside him with the natural interest of someone who is in a completely new situation for the first time in eons. MAY I ASK YOU SOMETHING, JUST OUT OF PURE SCIENTIFIC CURIOSITY? YOU MENTIONED 'MIDGARD' A MOMENT AGO, WHICH SUGGESTS THAT YOU'RE NOT A STRANGER TO TRAVELLING BETWEEN WORLDS. WOULD YOU CARE TO ELABORATE ABOUT THAT, IF IT ISN'T MUCH OF A NUISANCE?

Loki nodded, wondering what kind of strange realm could produce a Grim Reaper that seemed more polite than grim, and whose reaping instrument was currently resting against a nearby dead branch.

"I am Loki of Asgard, God of Mischief", he began, hesitantly, wondering if names and titles had any meaning after leaving one's existence behind. "I have visited Midgard several times in my life... although the last of them ended in a very unfortunate way."

DO TELL.

"I went to Midgard with the purpose of raising it to a glorious place among the realms. With me as its sovereign, of course. I was to make the human race kneel at my feet, and fulfill my destiny as their king."

THAT DOESN'T SOUND TOO UNFORTUNATE SO FAR.

"I was betrayed."

Death fidgeted on his seat for a moment and stood up. DO YOU MIND IF WE TAKE THIS CONVERSATION ELSEWHERE? THIS BOULDER IS STARTING TO DIG INTO MY SACRUM. QUITE UNCOMFORTABLE.

Loki had to clench his fists to repress the impulse of punching the cloaked skeleton. "You have the power to take us out of here? Why didn't you say so in the first place?"

BECAUSE WE ARE NOT REALLY HERE. 'HERE' IS NOT A PLACE. I SHOULDN'T EXIST IN THIS REALITY, AND YOU ARE NEITHER ALIVE NOT DECEASED, SO IT'S ALL A HUGE ANOMALY THAT HAS NO PLACE ANYWHERE IN THE UNIVERSE. I WISH I COULD EXPLAIN IT FURTHER, BUT THESE THINGS CAN BE VERY CONFUSING.

If disembodied ghosts could have headaches, Loki thought, he would be getting one exactly in that moment. Since trying to make any sense of the situation had proved useless, he simply waved his hand to show his agreement.

* * *

Another red flash startled the Asgardian. The abundance of crimson shades in the afterlife was starting to bother him. If his place of eternal rest was going to be permanently illuminated in red, his green armor was going to clash with everything.

He looked around him and saw that he was sitting at a wooden table, with his black robed new friend in front of him. All around them, several other tables were occupied with what looked like mortals, sitting in groups or in pairs in front of variable quantities of food and drink . Two pints of black beer, cold and foaming, were placed in front of them. There was also a chess board on the table, with the pieces set out. The black pieces, obviously, were on the Death side.

"We are in Midgard."

LONDON, TO BE PRECISE. A TAVERN CALLED THE WHITE LION. NICE PLACE... ALTHOUGH I DON'T COME HERE OFTEN. BUT CONVERGENCE EVENTS, HOWEVER INCONVENIENT, HAVE THE ADVANTAGE OF MAKING INTERDIMENSIONAL TRAVEL VERY EASY.

"You seem to have lost your steed."

BINKY IS NOT COMFORTABLE INDOORS. I HAVE SENT HIM BACK HOME UNTIL I HAVE NEED OF HIM. BESIDES, I'M NOT ENTIRELY SURE THAT HORSES ARE ALLOWED ON PUBLIC HOUSES.

"What about us? Those mortals should be cowering in terror at the sight of you... and kneeling before me, of course. Are we invisible?"

AH, BUT AS I TOLD YOU BEFORE, WE'RE NOT REALLY HERE. I HAVE MERELY PROJECTED OUR LITTLE POCKET OF REALITY INTO A DIFFERENT PLANE OF EXISTENCE, AND SHAPED THAT PROJECTION TO OUR ADVANTAGE. TO THESE HUMANS, WE LOOK EXACTLY LIKE ANY OTHER TWO ORDINARY CUSTOMERS OF THIS BUSINESS, ENJOYING A PINT OF BEER AND A GAME OF CHESS.

"As if being dead was not bad enough, I now look like a Midgardian. How terribly droll."

ALSO TERRIBLY CONVENIENT. AS I SAID BEFORE, SOMETIMES ONE HAS TO BE PRACTICAL.

"Indeed. So, as I was telling you... Wait, is this drink real? If we are not really here, I should not be able to touch it, and yet it looks and feels like an ordinary pitcher of beer."

I AM NOT ENTIRELY SURE HOW IT WORKS. THE RULES OF REALITY HAVE BEEN BENT A LITTLE TOO MUCH. BUT IF IT LOOKS LIKE BEER, AND TASTES LIKE BEER, THAN BEER IT MUST BE. AND IF IT'S NOT, WELL... IT CANNOT HARM YOU ANYWAY.

Loki sipped his Guinness with caution, licked his lips, and continued with his tale. "I already told you I was betrayed by my army, and captured by my enemies. Then they sent me back to Asgard covered in chains, and the Allfather condemned me, very unfairly, to rot in a prison cell for the rest of my days."

I AM SORRY.

"If it had not been for Malekith, if the Dark Elves had not attacked Asgard, I would still be there... although, on the other hand, I would still be alive. I am not sure which situation is worse."

THERE IS NO PERFECT HAPPINESS ANYWHERE. EVERY SITUATION HAS ITS FAULT, I'M AFRAID.

"And now I'm back in the realm I failed to conquer, in deep conversation with an otherworldly being who hails from a world outside the Nine Realms. Not alive, because of the Kursed one; not dead, because you refuse to take my soul. Just... here. Or maybe not even really here."

IF IT'S ANY CONSOLATION... EVEN IF ASGARD WAS INCLUDED IN MY JOB DESCRIPTION, I DON'T KNOW IF I WOULD BE ABLE TO END YOUR LIFE. I'VE NEVER TRIED IT, BUT I'M FAIRLY SURE MY SCYTHE DOES NOT WORK ON GODS.

Loki put his beer on the table with a faint 'thud' and a bitter smile. "Do not believe everything you hear, Reaper Man. If the Aesir were really gods, as they claim to be, do you think they could be killed? No, they allow inferior beings to call them that out of pure arrogance, but the truth is that there is nothing divine in me. I was just a lot less mortal than these people around us, but even the longest of life spans must come to an end."

Death took a long look at the humans in the pub before turning back to Loki. ANYWAY, I CANNOT POSSIBLY INTERFERE. TOO MANY IMPLICATIONS, AND I WOULDN'T WANT TO STEP ON ANYONE'S TOES. ESPECIALLY IF IT INVOLVES THE VALKYRIES, THEY HAVE A VERY ANNOYING TENDENCY TO TURN EVERY CONVERSATION INTO A SCREAM MATCH. AND BINKY IS HORRIBLY SCARED OF THEIR MARES, THANKS TO A CERTAIN INCIDENT IN THE PAST... THAT I WOULD PREFER NOT TO COMMENT.

Loki took the white bishop from the board, examining the piece carefully. "Can the gods in your world die?"

NOT IN THE STRICT SENSE OF THE WORD. THE STRENGTH OF A DEITY IS MEASURED IN BELIEF. TRUE, CONSISTENT BELIEF IS WHAT KEEPS THEM ALIVE... AND, IF ALL OF ONE GOD'S WORSHIPPERS STOP BELIEVING IN THEM, THEY BECOME WEAKER AND WEAKER, UNTIL THEY CEASE TO EXIST. I AM NOT SURE WHAT HAPPENS TO THEM NEXT... GODS ARE NOT REALLY MY AREA OF EXPERTISE, AND THEY TEND NOT TO LIKE ME VERY MUCH. IT HAS TO DO WITH THE BALANCE OF POWER.

The atmosphere around the two supernatural figures changed. The TV set mounted on the wall started showing some kind of sports competition, and the enthusiasm of the viewers was becoming louder every minute. Especially when, a few tables away, two groups of what looked like followers of the two rival teams started dedicating very colorful adjectives to each other's family members.

SHALL WE CONTINUE TALKING SOMEWHERE ELSE? I'M AFRAID TONIGHT IS GAME NIGHT, NOT THE PERFECT EXAMPLE OF PEACE AND QUIET.

"Wherever you like", muttered Loki, somewhat fascinated by the barbarian behaviour of the people he had tried to conquer just a few months before.

* * *

There was another brief burst of light (yes, still red), and the two appeared sitting at another table, on a different kind of tavern. It was smaller, darker, and fortunately immersed in a reverent silence while the audience listened to the jazz singer on the stage, who was pouring her voice and her longing on a rendition of a very melancholic song.

The Asgardian's fingers clenched around the small glass in front of him, half full with a green liquor that seemed to glow in the dim light.

"This is France", he muttered between gritted teeth.

Death observed his companion intently. If he had had eyebrows, he would have raised them in a silent question. But, as he didn't, he went back to the task of placing a sugar cube on a teaspoon and pouring water over it, very carefully, mixing it with the absinthe in the glass below and making the green drink gleam and morph into a pearlized cloud. Not that he intended to drink it, of course, but the ceremony that surrounded this particular spirit had always been extremely fascinating to someone who did not eat or drink.

YOU LOOK IRRITATED, he observed, fidgeting with one of the remaining sugar cubes. PERHAPS MY CHOICE OF LOCATION HAS BEEN INCORRECT THIS TIME.

"I have been here before", answered Loki, gulping his absinthe without bothering with any water or sugar. "Hundreds of years ago, my travels to Midgard often brought me here, to Paris. It was the place I chose every time I needed to get away from Asgard and its dull life. I had a lover here... a girl so charming that no man, mortal or not, would have been indifferent to his beauty. So alluring that seemed more suited to share my bed in the palace of Asgard than to walk among the other mortals on those filthy streets. Her name was Babette; she was the maid of some duchess, and I never understood how Fate could allow someone so lovely and delicate to work mending the clothes and polishing the silver of a Midgardian old cow."

AH, FATE CAN BE VERY UNREASONABLE SOMETIMES. AND HE CHEATS, IT'S PART OF HIS NATURE, said Death, pouring Loki another glass of the green drink. BUT I HAVE INTERRUPTED YOU AGAIN, HOW CARELESS OF ME. YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT A WOMAN.

"The most delicious creature I ever met on this condemned realm. I had planned to whisk her away, to purchase some little country house for her where I could visit whenever it suited me, instead of having to sneak through the kitchen window of her master's palace, like a common thief. But, right before I had the chance to do that, a group of her fellow Frenchmen decided that the head of their king would look much better if it was forcefully separated from his body. People started rioting on the streets, breaking the prison's gates, burning houses, and beheading every noble man or woman they could find. A truly disgusting period. One can like one king better than other, but the abolishment of all monarchy in such a way was nothing less than a crime."

WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR LADY FRIEND?

"I lost her track. Her masters had to escape to the country in the middle of the night, and she went with them. One night I came to visit her and all I found was the house, empty and looted; Babette was nowhere to be found, and I had to return home empty-handed."

AND YOU NEVER SAW HER AGAIN? I AM SO SORRY.

"Oh, I did see her!" he hissed, furious, clutching his silver spoon so hard that the handle bent a little. "It took me months to locate her again, in a remote village, where she had gone and married a stupid butcher! She had to look for her future, she said, because in the new revolutionary order kings and princes did not matter anymore. She rejected me, a crown Prince, for a jolly fat man who spent his days in a shop making sausages!"

I CAN SEE HOW THAT EXPERIENCE MUST HAVE PREDISPOSED YOU AGAINST THIS COUNTRY.

"I will never forgive the gods for having invented the French. Never."

The growingly irritated Loki finished his third glass of absinthe. But, considering the resilience of his Frost Giant physiology, it wouldn't have affected him anyway, even if he was drinking real liquor and not an astral projection of it.

PERHAPS IT WILL BE BEST TO RETURN OT OUR INITIAL LOCATION, said the Reaper, emptying the contents of the sugar bowl into one of the deep pockets of his robe. FOR BINKY. HE LOVES SUGAR.

* * *

The desolated planes of Svartalfheim looked exactly as it did a while before, including Loki's apparent corpse in the ground. The Asgardian couldn't repress a shudder at the sight of it.

"What will happen to me now? After the Convergence ends, who will take my spirit to its rightful place?"

THAT DEPENDS. IF THE NINE REALMS END UP NOT BEING DESTROYED, SOMEONE WILL HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF THAT.

"And, if it depended on you, where would you send me, Reaper? What destiny would await me if I had been born in your world... Hel or Valhalla?"

IT DOESN'T MATTER TO ME WHETHER AN INDIVIDUAL HAS BEEN GOOD OR EVIL. WHETHER YOU GO TO VALHALLA OR HEL IS ENTIRELY UP TO WHAT YOU BELIEVE. I JUST DO MY JOB.

"I believe in nothing."

THEN I'M AFRAID I CANNOT HELP YOU. YOU'LL HAVE TO FIND OUT FOR YOURSELF, IF IT COMES TO...

All of a sudden, Death paused and raised his empty eye sockets to the grayish sky above them. A couple of seconds later the air shivered, as if a soundless earthquake had ripped an invisible tear in the fabric of the Universe. The dust from the ground floated around Loki's feet for a moment, and he felt like someone was tugging at an invisible cord tied to his spine.

Another tug, and this time the pain arrived with it. It was almost a welcome sensation, something blissfully familiar after having been a sort of ghost for a while. He looked up and realized he was lying on the ground, and feeling considerably worse than any dead person should. His head throbbed, his chest felt as if it had been pierced with a red hot iron (that bit wasn't very far from the truth), and he could feel at least three pointy stones under his back that, despite the leather armor, were going to leave bruises on his skin.

IT'S NOT OFTEN THAT I AM THE BEARER OF GOOD NEWS, boomed the tall skeleton's voice, seven feet above the Asgardian's prone figure. THE CONVERGENCE OF THE WORLDS HAS ENDED PEACEFULLY. AND, AS A VERY INTERESTING SIDE EFFECT, YOU ARE ALIVE. I BELIEVE CONGRATULATIONS ARE IN ORDER.

Loki started laughing, something not very wise when one has several broken ribs. "Of all the absurd situations I have witnessed in my life, I think this episode deserves to be the one I will tell my children, if I ever have them."

I SOMEHOW DOUBT THEY WILL BELIEVE YOUR TALE. BUT I HAVE TO SAY THAT THIS HAS BEEN A VERY INTERESTING ENCOUNTER FOR ME, TOO.

It was impossible, but Loki could have sworn that the smile on Death's skull became a tiny bit wider as he said this. The laughter morphed into a violent cough as he attempted to get up. He managed to do it on the third try, when a long bony hand helped him to his feet without any apparent effort. His body was still bruised and hurt, but the pain was becoming more bearable now.

The man that wasn't quite a god and the creature from another world scrutinized each other, in silence, for a long while.

"Can you tell me why I am not dead?"

THIS KIND OF COSMIC DISTORTIONS ALWAYS LEAVE SOME LOOSE ENDS BEHIND THEM. APPARENTLY SOMEONE HAS FORGOTTEN, OR NEGLECTED, OR SIMPLY DECLINED, TO COLLECT YOUR SOUL. AS A CONSEQUENCE, YOU ARE NOT FORMALLY DEAD. AND, BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT DEAD AND THE UNIVERSE LIKES TO FUNCTION ON SOME SORT OF LOGIC, YOU CONTINUE TO LIVE. IT'S QUITE SIMPLE, IF YOU LOOK AT IT THE RIGHT WAY.

Loki nodded, not because he understood completely what Death was saying, but because his own headache was already painful enough to augment it with metaphysical thoughts. "You should head back to your world, Reaper Man. Perhaps the same thing is happening there, and you will find a legion of lost souls wandering between life and death without a guide to the other realm."

DO NOT WORRY. IF I WERE TO BE UNAVAILABLE FOR A LONG PERIOD OF TIME, MY GRANDDAUGHTER WOULD TAKE MY PLACE. IT HAS HAPPENED BEFORE.

Before the god of Mischief could ask further questions about Death's granddaughter, and her involvement in what seemed to be a family business, the big white horse appeared behind him, apparently out of thin air.

WELL DONE, BINKY, said the black robed creature, offering two lumps of sugar to the steed.

"I guess this is goodbye, then. According to your own explanations, it is unlikely that we meet again, and the Convergence only happens once every five thousand years."

STRANGEST THINGS HAVE HAPPENED. He picked up his scythe and mounted on Binky, who suddenly seemed very interested in smelling Loki's hair. I MUST WARN YOU THAT YOUR LOVED ONES WILL PROBABLY BELIEVE YOU DECEASED, ESPECIALLY THE MAN WHO SAW YOU BEING STABBED. YOU MAY WANT TO PROCEED WITH CAUTION BEFORE APPEARING IN FRONT OF THEM.

An intense glint of green appeared in Loki's eyes. "That will not be a problem... I have no loved ones, not anymore."

NEVERTHELESS, SOMEONE IS LOOKING FOR YOU, said Death, signaling to a point in the horizon where two guards in golden armor were riding up a hill.

"So soon?"

TIME IS NOT EXACTLY LINEAR AND CONSISTENT ON THESE CASES. WHAT APPEARED AS A MERE HOUR TO YOU COULD HAVE BEEN DAYS, OR EVEN WEEKS, IN YOUR WORLD.

"In that case, friend, this is farewell. I thank you for your company and your wise words. And do not worry, I will deal with those guards and arrange my return to Asgard in my own way."

AS YOU WISH... FRIEND. UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN. OR MAYBE NOT. ONWARDS, BINKY! he said, before disappearing into thin air.

* * *

Later, weeks later, when he was safely installed on the throne of Asgard, Loki thought of his near-Death experience. He wondered if his unlikely friend and his Asgardian counterparts would share the same views of the world. Someday his second chance would be over, someday he would die for real... and, when his time came, he wouldn't be expecting a big breasted Valkyrie, or the half-spectral figure of Hela. Not anymore. Loki thought he would be really disappointed if, when he exhaled his last breath, he didn't see a very tall skeleton cloaked in a black robe coming to get his soul.

Because maybe, in the end, Death could be a bigger adventure than life.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and reviews are always welcome!


End file.
